Predictably Unpredictable
by Capitalist Vixen
Summary: Season 7 Spike has got his soul back and a little bit of humanity. As the PTB sent Angel a guide Spike has got one too but is she more trouble then she’s worth? (in great need of a beta)


Predictably Unpredictable  
  
Summary: Your usual optimistic veiw of a season 7. Hope it varries from the others. I don't own any of the characters. And I am in desperate need of a beta reader!! so read, review and email me.  
  
Live for the moment and drive yourself to your own utopia.  
  
When he awoke pain lashed through his body with furious waves. Every muscle in his body screamed and ached. Groaning he clutched his pounding head and sought for some kind of sense besides the merciless fire. Soft hushing and dove-like coos soothed his mind and took him to a safer place. A cool hand touched his forehead and he felt a flush of icy relief spread through him.  
  
"Sall right William, sall right." The voice was soft, almost musical and somehow recognizable. He felt a frantic pounding within him that seemed to be in rhythm with the throbbing pain in his head.  
  
"Wha' appened?" Spike asked wearily as he tried to open his eyes. The room he was in seemed to have a soft blurred glow to it. He felt the light weight of thin satin sheets covering him and a soft mattress filling the contours of his back. The stifling heat of the jungle was replaced by cool, dry air.  
  
"Hmm to many things to tell at 7 a.m. and without drink. It seems you already have the hangover part down." Gasping Spike turned on the bed to face the feminine voice. His eyes then widened in realization as he started gasping for a different reason.  
  
"I'm breathing!"  
  
"Yah well maybe I should explain that." Quickly rolling over and effectively pinning the women Spike lay full body on top of her .  
  
"You better sta." Eagle like eyes stared up at him with light humor and concern while memorable pouty lips turned slightly into a frown. Very memorable. A burst of memories flashed before his eyes. Waves and curls of coppery tresses swirling around her with the fire of bombardment behind her mocking the sun rise. A pile of blood soaked bodies between them, a feel of self-satisfaction. Again a flash of the girl except in the faint light of an old room. She's holding a gun to an old man's head. He could feel himself shrug with little feeling. A waste of blood, he heard himself think. "You could call me Nemain." The blast of the gun and a mist of the coppery red liquid.  
  
Spike narrowed his eyes reality slowly came back to him through broken stars that clouded his vision. "Nemain, what has happened?" He said calmly, although his heart was beating so hard that he feared it might break a rib.  
  
"Well if you would let me finish taking that nasty headache away." her face softened and she gently caressed Spike's cheek. Her hand was so cold compared to his enflamed skin. He felt himself sigh in relief as his heartbeat slowed to a steady comforting rhythm. Relaxing and rolling off Nemain onto his back he let the cool atmosphere further take away the fevered heat from his body. At around this time he noticed that the only thing he was wearing was a pair of black boxers and the light satin sheets. He felt Nemain's weight shift on the other side of him and looked up into her amused eyes.  
  
"Well first thing I guess is, if you haven't noticed, your human. Or partially. Second thing is that PTB sent me hear as kinda a guide. Sooooo you get to help me kill things again!" she sang happily as she bounced off the bed.  
  
Spike leaned back on his elbows to watch her go around the bed to a large glass table with a silver tray carrying fruits and bread on it. She was wearing very short, jean shorts that revealed her toned and bronzed thighs and a white cotton tank top with a sports-bra underneath. She appeared as lean and with just enough curves as his few memories showed him. Looking around the large room he appreciatively eyed the glamour of it. The bed seemed to be the center piece of the room, facing soft cream colored walls and stone floors with lush carpets. To the right of him, through glass doors there was a marble balcony with ivy hanging over the edges that had small violet flowers.  
  
Hesitantly he set his feat on a plush, almost velvety blue rug and slowly walked over to the balcony. The sunlight hit him before he reached the doors. It felt foreign and warm. His heart beat against his chest almost painfully as he reached for the golden handles.  
  
The doors opened with a metallic clank. Nemain watched with a small smile as the awe struck man stepped into the sunlight for the first time in one hundred and twenty-two years. Lightly sitting down on the glass table she nibbled on some papaya that she had ordered up. The first time she had seen the over actively, restless vampire had been in the middle of World War I. They had both made the best out of a great situation. For the two killers war had been like a new game and they were both naturally experts. His goal was for the most kills, hers was for the most money. They had ended up with a mutual agreement as Spike was pining over his loss of Drew over Angelus. When she had first heard of the story of the new, improved and thoroughly Slayer whipped Spike she had laughed. But when he first opened his eyes that mourning she had seen a spark of something. Something incomprehensible and strangely intimidating.  
  
"HOLY SHIT!" she jumped to her feet at the sudden outburst looked out the balcony to find Spike laughing like a small child who had gotten what he wished for for Christmas. Slowly smiling to herself as she watched him she decided that he had not changed a day.  
  
"So hon, how's the weather today?" she asked happily walking outside to meet him. Sighing he turned around to face her. His smile was quickly turning into a pensive frown.  
  
"You have no idea." His eyes turned a crystalline ice blue as he flopped down on a day bed. She slowly sat down next to him as they looked over the leafy ocean, sparkling with rays of dawn light of the African jungle. The cool mist gave and eerily glow letting the scent of thousands of fragrant flower hover in the air. His eyes became darker as his thoughts deepened. The view of the jungle before him started to disappear into more flashes of memories and emotions. A dark princess whispering unfathomable secrets in his ear. The cries of pain and torment echoing around him as he lashed out in bloodlust and cruel delight. A churning started at the pit of Spike's stomach as he felt himself drowning in the quicksand regret. Puking started sounding like a good idea. Was it possible to dispel these feeling through vomit?  
  
"Hey! Don't get too broody on me now. We're going to have to leave in a bit." Nemain said nudging him to get up. He jerked out of the torrents his reverie.  
  
"What's the rush?" he asked reluctantly leaning forward still feeling thoroughly nauseated.  
  
Chuckling sheepishly she stood in front of him and lightly shifted from foot to foot. "Well umm..ya see, the place where you had your lil' demon meeting. Well it was kinda out there and I thought about this ol' kinda buddy of mine that was in the neighborhood who owns this place." While saying this she made a sweeping motion toward the enormous palace attached to balcony with her free hand that wasn't deeply imbedded in her pocket.  
  
"Go on." Spike said starting to become nervously annoyed at where this conversation was going.  
  
"Well he's a demonicassholewhoreallywantstokillmeandthat'swhyhegavemeafreeroom. So we have to go pretty soon." Spike looked at her for a few seconds as if trying to grasp the meaning in the mass of incomprehensible noise she just made.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The guy who owns this place is going to have someone burst through those doors any minute now and kill us." She had finally stopped fidgeting but now had her head was slightly bowed while looking up at him.  
  
"You're joking right?" he replied cocking his head to the side in annoyance. She opened her mouth to answer but a small knocking sound that came from beyond the bedroom made them both jump.  
  
"Nope. Now let's go!" She grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. As she started running to the edge of the balcony Spike stumbled forward and grasped the bench.  
  
"Nobody's bursting through the doors and for all you know it could be room service!" His hold on the bench had stopped her on the edge of the balcony where she was now teetering precariously. Another small knock sounded from the front room.  
  
"Mistress Nemain? Master Duiwel demands your presence." At the sound of the voice all motion stopped on the balcony. If only for a few seconds it stopped. Then with a harsh yank she hauled herself and Spike off into nothing.  
  
Spike yellped as he was catapulted into the air and quickly falling through the thick canopy of leaves and branches. A perilous thought rushed through his head as perilous thought sometimes do in times of crisis. He was human now. He could die from a fall like this.  
  
Before the thought could be completed he saw a large thick branch seconds before he felt it. All his precious air whooshed out of his lungs and the branch groaned from the new weight. With a low growl he clutched the rough bark in misplaced anger and jumped to a standing position taking slow deep breaths. As soon as he was balanced and ready to throw and onslaught of verbal blows to the red-head standing in front of him she jumped off the branch landing with feline grace on a larger one below.  
  
"Hurry up!" she whispered motioning up to him to follow her. "Bugger." He grumbled before jumping after her. Through all the natural sounds of the jungle a metallic snap followed by the pounding of many feet heralded them of the quick approaching hazard to both their lives.  
  
"See what I meant!" Nemain whispered urgently. Spike tactfully ignored her preferring to continue downward, away from the past partner and the demon after her blood. Away from thoughts of humanity, away from every sodding thing that had brought him to this moment in life. What the HELL had he been thinking when he came to Africa?!  
  
The machine gun fire shredding the foliage around him violently threw him out of his thoughts. Swearing profusely Nemain and Spike flew down the tree darting and weaving when they could. Landing on the speckled black granite driveway in a roll. Bullets ricocheted behind them as they dodged and leaped into the shelter of the jungle.  
  
"My Eagle, there is no escape for you." The sing-song voice cut through the heavy air and thick foliage like a machete, sounding just as sharp. "The gates and barriers are up and besides that every bounty hunter in the country has been notified of your appearance. They are expecting their payment from me for your head. Revenge is so sweet."  
  
Spike looked over at Nemain and glared while she pouted up at where they had come from.  
  
"You sodding pilock! Most of the bounty hunters in the country are paid by ME!" She yelled back. Immediately the guns started firing again on top of the hidden pair.  
  
"What did you do that for?!" Spike roared after her as they raced through the jungle trying to escape death by oblong spears that left a shredded path behind them.  
  
"Well they are!" Nemain panted back. Then they saw it. 10 yards ahead of them the air was rippling forward brushing against leaves and bushes as it went. A magical barrier closing in on them.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ 


End file.
